


In Your Hands, That Steel of Mine

by daidoro



Series: Two Fronts Sidestories [1]
Category: Warframe
Genre: Eudico is kind of a disaster, Fortuna - Freeform, Is there anyone who didn't instantly get a crush on Eudico, No Spoilers, Nonbinary Character, One Shot, Other, Pining, Romance, Tenno genders are complex probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 02:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daidoro/pseuds/daidoro
Summary: Biz used to joke that someday Eudico would fall in love with a Lanka, because it was the only thing that would ever measure up to her standards.Competence was one thing. But, well. Single-handedly halting Corpus aggression was another. And Eudico had always had athingfor heroics.





	In Your Hands, That Steel of Mine

There had always been vapor hanging in the air, but Fortuna’s atmosphere was different now. Eudico watches her kin as they work, and knows that if she still had the wetware to pull breath, she would feel it with every humid lungful. There’s a tension thrumming beneath the lights now, something she hasn’t remembered since the old days. Something that’s been missing since the time of their big hits, since they were their truest selves, since 12.

“Throwers down-line are capped. Bleed the valve,” she says.

“Chek and done, boss,” the call comes back.

Movements on the floor are stiff today, awkward with the weight of foreign attention. These days there are almost always Tenno watching, visiting the shops or bringing goods back from the Vallis. Even on slower shifts, there’s always at least one silently looking down over the colony, weapon in hand. Eudico isn’t sure what they’d done to swing an arrangement like that, and she isn’t going to chance it by asking.

Even as she watches, the lift doors groan open. A brief wave of frigid Vallis air rolls over the canal, pinging a couple of the engineers’ sensors and pulling their attention from away the machinery.

“Eyes-on, muckers! That segment’s live!” She hollers.

A grudging round of assent, and Eudico waits until the line had settled again before side-eyeing the lift.  


* * *

  
  
Last-lift call comes and goes. One by one, the throwers pick up their tools and the Vallis labor trudges their way back inside.

Eudico is paging through the day’s manifests at a terminal when Roky clambers up from behind, trailing several terse ventkids.

“Out with it,” she says.

“Problem, boss. Ribbel’s missed his clock-out for maint crew. Still out on the Vallis, we think.”

“How long ‘til cold cycle?” Eudico asks, trying to ignore the sudden sinking feeling. If she were to work it more honest, she already knows.

“Couple ‘a centis. That was last lift, boss- we’re done near iced in.”

_Ain’t that just solid._

Cold cycle rendered the Vallis utterly inhospitable. Conventional bodies- metallic or no- would never survive the exposure. It wasn’t unusual for Tenno to venture out, though, as reduced Corpus surveillance and whiteout conditions masked their operations. Eudico pulls up a more discreet docket, one dedicated to lift logs. Smoke’s last prospecting cell returned a while ago. Biz still had a lone Tenno out on a longer capture run, but they weren’t combat talent and Eudico doubts she’d even be able to reach them.

As far as her dockets went...

“I might still have someone out there.” She breathes, tapping through further layers of encryption. Solaris United’s bounties were kept deeper in the system, and she’d not logged any more Tenno out since the shift began.

_It’s… Oh._

She recognizes that tag- the only one she knew by heart.

She’d called them Sparky the first time they’d met, partly out of some sudden, childish defense mechanism to keep an upper hand. Tenno as a whole could be unsettling, even alien, but this one in particular was…

_Elegant. Deadly. Graceful, all clean lines of black and gold._

Most of the combat hands were come-and-go, but a few stuck around long enough for her to push riskier requests on. She knew Ticker counted Sparky top talent, and after a while Eudico had started to agree- they got work done, no mistake.

_Nothing for it, then._

She keys in a set of communication codes, and a slow few moments pass before Fortuna’s old hookups can catch a signal. Once the ping reaches its destination, there’s a burst of static and some warning lights as a Cephalon seizes control over the transmission.

“Sparky! You looking for work? Something’s come up. Hazard rate.”

 _“My Operator is currently returning from sortie north of Fortuna,”_ the synthesized voice replies. _“They will be pleased to assist you.”_

“One of our workers missed their clock-out. They’re still on the Vallis, and I need you to bring them in before the storm rolls through. I’m sending you their last known location.”

_“Received. The Operator is inbound against search-and-rescue. ETA to target coordinates is eleven centicycles.”_

Most of Fortuna’s power shunts to protective heat shielding during cold-cycle, but by some miracle, the telemetry line is still functioning. Eudico watches on her flickery terminal display as the Tenno’s indicator blip approaches a Corpus symbol, tension mounting all the while.

Taxmen are cutting it close in this weather… They’re too far out to be a routine patrol. Too close to Ribbel’s coordinates.

“Something’s not right. You’ve got company at the destination. Shouldn’t be there.”

Vague flashes blur the display, as a sudden energy spike briefly obscures the half-frozen sensory suites. Eudico grips the edge of the arm rail. The steel bites into her palms, cold and mercifully grounding.

 _“Contacts forward,”_ the Cephalon replies calmly. _“Corpus have identified hostile. Engaging with intent to salvage communication logs.”_

The connection auto-mutes as the first screams come through. Eudico glances to a side display, where Ribbel’s work portrait is flanked by corporate information. Augmentation documents, work history, identifying marks. Family contacts.

“Give ‘em hell, Sparky,” she whispers.  


* * *

  
  
Ribbel makes it, in the end. The venter’s arms and legs are both frozen up by the time Sparky drags him back to Fortuna, but the emergency thermal coils in his rig kept his organics alive. Eudico hovers outside the med-corps’ block until she gets word, and tries not to stare at her Tenno- _the_ Tenno, not _hers,_ she corrects sternly- who is in visibly worse shape.

Their normally reflective plating is now scratched and smudged with grime, and their body language visibly exhausted. Eudico knows that part of what the Solaris find unsettling about the Tenno is their subtly-alien movements, their habit of holding unnaturally, perfectly still during conversation. Sparky leans against the bulkhead tiredly, her Sentinel flitting about and fussing over the armor damage.

After the medi-tech delivers the news, Eudico turns slowly to her companion. She feels hollow and rusty, a pipe with too much flow-through after a long day of work, but even still can’t shake her nerves as the Tenno turns to regard her.

“‘...Thank you’ don’t do justice, mate,” she says wearily. “You’ve always been solid to Solaris U, and this... above and outside. I know Ribbel’s family appreciate it, sure as stars shine. And I do too.”

_“My Operator has always held the people of Fortuna in the highest regard. It remains our pleasure to assist you.”_

The voice of Sparky’s Cephalon is still neutral and friendly over their Sentinel’s speakers, but Eudico picks out the hints of strain underneath. She almost takes another step forward, despite herself, but the Sentinel is hovering protectively between them and something about its polite tone seems to demand a bit of distance.

She wants to ask, to push, but she’s been awake for a solid seventy-two and suddenly doesn’t have the words anyway.  
  
_You kept my family safe,_ Eudico thinks she wants to say.

“‘Till next time,” she manages.  


* * *

  
  
“Biz, got a mo’?”

“I can make one,” he says, setting down a handheld.

“Give me the rundown on our starkids again,” she forces out, before she thinks better of it. The Business was good people, but nobody had words for shrewd ‘cept what was his. Less she acted nervous, less he’d have to tease her with later.

“Hmm. I suppose with how our operation has developed, a refresher is prudent,” he says. Still, the lengthy pause made it clear something was up.

It’s somewhat believable. She’d never taken an interest in Tenno beyond what she’d needed for Solaris U to hire them. Still, Biz would suss her out quick if she doesn’t watch herself. She resists the urge to turn away and look out over the canal workers.

“Just… take it from the top,” she says, resigned. Biz leans against the wall and ticks each point off a finger as he speaks.

“Don’t need to worry much about offending them. Calling an individual ‘Tenno’ or ‘it’ won’t be seen as disrespectful. They won’t ever speak in front of outsiders, but you can address them normally and let their Cephalon do the talking.”

“No outsiders? Not even us?” Eudico firmly pushes down on a sudden swell of disappointment, tapping the side of the hatch on her chest meaningfully.

“No, it’s different. According to ‘Duck, it’s intimate for them.”

“Oh,” she says. That... _really_ doesn’t help her think about this.

“Names, as well. Physically, each body has a model name like one of our serial numbers, but each individual will have a deepname they don’t use outside their clan. The nicknaming thing you do is fine. Hmm. What else.”

“And about the...?” She tapped a finger against the torque-cuff where her arms met rig.

“Ah,” Biz clicked his fingers. “The holographs on their shoulders are informatics. Not every Tenno wears them. Clan emblems are worn on the left and signifiers to the right, I believe. The signifiers correspond to specific assignments or specialties. I’d suppose it’s comparable in their culture to an occupation, but it’s not an effective translation.”

She doesn’t ask her last question. She doesn’t have to.

Nobody’s ever seen beneath a Tenno’s helmet. Nobody can even say if they have anything under the helmet. For all the Origin system knows, the Tenno could be just the metal hands of their Cephalons’ will.

Eudico thinks about an onyx faceplate, and tries not to wonder what could be under it.  
  


* * *

  
  
The next time she sees Sparky, it’s a dozen cycles later and they’re waiting at Zuud’s while one of their mates inspects kitgun parts. Eudico flicks her oculars’ magnification up slightly.

Clan emblem on the left, signifier on the right. The first is easy enough to make out- a white waterfall on a black background sprinkled with red. The second, though, is an array of glowing lines that don’t pluck at anything familiar to her. It’s not until later when she asks Little Duck, scratching the pattern into a bit of scrap metal, that she learns what Sparky’s signifier means.

“Stratos emblem,” the Quill rep says, shifting against the wall. “‘S a Tenno like got something to prove. They’re from the muckin’ heavy stuff. High-risk extraction, extermination contracts, sorties into suicide missions, ya know?”

 _Suicide missions._ Rahk, she’d seen Tenno drop into hopeless-looking fights without so much as a backward glance. What kind of slag op would their kind consider a suicide mission?

 _Oh, Sparky. With all the hotmuck I got on my mind already._  
  


* * *

  
  
She kicks it for a bit, stays focused and snappy and is every bit the harsh-mic Floor Boss her hands know her for. She keeps her back to the door and eyes on the payin’ pipes.

Nobody could say she doesn’t try. She tries hard. She tries for a decacycle or two, and the shifts come and go like venters through the grating.

But then Nef is emptying the security depots, and Zuud’s data hashes are all leading back to Deck 12, and the call comes in that an Orb is active and they’ve lost observers up north. It all just blurs together, faster and faster, until finally Biz and Smoke tell her they’re pulling their Tenno back from the Vallis while a cell is deployed to stop the offensive before it reaches Fortuna.

Before she knows it, Eudico is watching Sparky climb the stairs to the lift, checking over a rifle with the same terrible composure as their companions. She sees the glimmer of a shape she recognizes now on their shoulder, the Stratos emblem, and can’t think of anything but how they looked trudging back through the door last time, how they almost never came back at all.

She doesn’t remember moving, but in the blink of an eye she’s standing right there, and there’s no one else in the world except for Sparky, turning a black and gold visage toward her.

“I…”

Fortuna’s counting on them. She can’t say, _why can’t it be someone else?_   She can’t say, _how do you do this, every time?_

She can’t say, _don’t go._

“Watch your six, Sparky,” she says instead. “Please.”

Where their Cephalon would normally fill the moment with chatter, there’s only silence as the Sentinel floats motionlessly. Sparky doesn’t move either, and Eudico turns to leave before she can say anything else unwise.

Weight on her shoulder, delicate and strong. Eudico’s sensors seem to catch up sluggishly, and she slowly follows the dark graceful arm back up to its owner.

By some unspoken signal, the other Tenno waiting over Sparky’s shoulder retreat several meters to a respectful distance, and time slows to a crawl as Eudico realizes what’s about to happen.

“I’ll be careful.” The Tenno says. Their voice is whisper-soft, impossibly young for something so ancient. “Wait for me.”

The lift arrives, and she does.  
  


* * *

  
  
“‘S not gonna help none, pacing ‘round,” Roky says. The ventkid’s metal legs dangle off the edge of the table as she sits, kicking slowly.

“It’s just the waiting,” Eudico says. “The moment we get a transmission, I’ll be cool as ice. For better or worse.”

“We’re all on edge,” Biz says, spreading his hands as if to placate them. “But it’s not the first time Fortuna’s felt this pressure. We’ll endure.”

“Behold the faithful, on their knees,” Ticker drawls.

Around and above them, more Tenno are arriving, gathering in silent clusters. Fortuna’s denizens eye them uncertainly; Bakerei’s skeleton crew is the only group still working through the state of emergency. The air hums like a wire under tension, like the edge-whine of a fieldron pulling high voltage. Eudico stands tight, sensors occasionally flicking back toward the chrono display above the nearest terminal.  
  
If she’s miserable, if she’s nervous or scared or itching to sit at a hidden microphone and slip into the fearless Vox Solaris, she doesn’t show it.  
  


* * *

  
  
As one, the gathered Tenno perk up, one or two gracefully twisting to their feet. Something flits between them, some unspoken message both relaxing and bringing the cells to attention as they move closer to the lift.

A moment later, the terminal pings. Information begins to stream through, telemetry and comms lighting up as the Corpus-made jammer web is abruptly lifted. The speakers fill with static, then crackle before solidifying into an unfamiliar Cephalon’s voice.  
  
_“Target neutralized. Corpus reinforcements inbound.”_

A cheer rolls through Fortuna like a tidal wave, the Solaris voices ringing with the flange of metallic vocal chords. One or two families take up a strange sort of rhythm, stamping and clanging against whatever surfaces are available.

“About damn time,” Ticker mutters.

“Can you believe the _muckin’_ nerve-” Roky is swearing happily.

“-without much intelligence, but still very-” Biz says to someone out of sight.

Eudico tilts her head back and lets the noise wash over her, lets the relief and defiance build and build. For a long moment she stands, listening to her vast family live the moment.

Then she lets it go. There’s work to be done. The Tenno are going hot and moving out, Cephalons filling her terminal with destinations and summaries atop their objective markers. There’s a team leaving to extract the strike cell, one to intercept Corpus reinforcements, another moving to disrupt salvage efforts, even more to capitalize on their temporary distraction. Fortuna will be back on its feet within hours, the work orders and dockets filling up again, and Floor Boss Eudico FB-9 will be holding them fast, haulin’ them through it.

But for right now, she can breathe and think about the strike cell, making their slow way back from the edge of the Vallis. She can think about the snow outside, how it must look coming down to rest across a black and gold faceplate, and how Sparky will nod tiredly when the doors finally open. How they might be in Void-knows-what shape, but _alive_ and _real_ and _still here_ after saving Fortuna yet again. How maybe this time they can have another few words and a moment before their people and obligations pull them back to reality.

 _This time I’ll say it,_ she decides, and knows it’s the truth.

The chaos continues around her, but Eudico stands by the lift. And waits.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The frame isn't specified, but I had Saryn Prime in mind when I wrote this.
> 
> Please be aware that my main series from this universe, Child on Two Fronts, contains major story spoilers.


End file.
